Charlie Bone and the Burning Babies
by Dying Rose on The Vine
Summary: When Charlie's best friend goes missing, life goes to the dogs. His Father and Mother may be in grave danger and it's up to him to save them. T for now
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is AU-ish, meaning that it may not make sence if you think I'm following the book time line. Bite me...the site where I usually post this may be closing down, I'm not sure.

Rating: T+, for Teen plus stuff

Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie B peeps but everything else is my idea so buzz off unless you want to use them. Then just give me credit.

Prologue

Owain was now an old man. His reflexes were not what they

use to be, but his powers were still strong as ever. The man he

needed to talk to was not a man anymore, but a beast. He

entered the forest with full intention of telling the man who he

was and where he was from...for it seemed like he had forgotten.

Owain stepped into the wood, and as soon as he did, he forgot

everything. Who he was, and why he was here. But he

remembered his powers.

The beast came to him and roared, but he understood. He roared

and grunted back, but the beast wouln't have it. He ran, and

Owain followed. They ran and ran until they reached a clearing. A

steep hill.

Owain tried to communicate with him again. Asking him what he

was going here, when the beast let out such a hidous cry that

Owain froze on the spot. The beast lunged at Owain. He's cries

of pain echoed though the forest. It was so awful it listen to that 

all the animals left the forest. Even the trees themselfs tried to

leave.

The poor albino man had sailed far and wide to easy the Beast

tribes pain, only to be rip to sherds and forgotten by his sons.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks for R&Ring. It's from a site of Charlie Bone-ness and what not. This one I had to write twice because I deleted by accident. En-freakin'-joy.

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Torn and Ripped

"Charlie, dear, could you pick somthing up for me at the new store?" Grandma Jones asked. Her first name was Masie, and that's what Charlie called her.

He nodded, saying yes with toast in his mouth while combing with uncombable wiry hair.

"You disgusting boy! Don't talk with your mouth open and don't comb your hair at the table!" Grandma Bone snaped at him. He never would call her by her first name. She was in a double bad mood since Charlies' Mom and Dad went on their second honeymoon, leaving Charlie with his two Grandma's and his Uncle, Patron.

This wasn't bad at all. With his father back, Grandma Bone was less willing to threaten and she sure was almost nice at times when he was around.

Charlie swallowed hard, starting to cough. "Where is it?"

"Oh, it's where that nice Alice woman worked. It's now a dent and wear store." Maise replied, putting the jam away.

"Okay, I'll see if Ben will come with me." Charlie jumped down, putting his comb and half his hair away in his pocket.

"All right, but make sure you get the green coffee, four bags." She told him, starting to wash the dishes. Poor Maise, he'd be sure to help he as much he could. She had to do all the work.

Charlie headed out the front door in to the bright sunny Sunday. A smile sprawled on his face as he mounted the stairs of the Browns. He knocked on the door twice.

Mrs Brown awnsered the door, her short hair uncombed and still in her bathrobe.

"Oh! Charlie, dear. Have you seen Benjamin, he left looking for Runner and never came back."

Charlie gasped, "No I havn't...when was that?"

"Last night." she said, sounding like she had a bad head cold.

"Oh! I'll be sure to look around." Charlie said, while Mrs Brown was saying how they called everyone. They didn't call Charlie's house.

Mrs.Brown shut the door. Maybe she was suspious of him. This thought kept his mind so busy he didn't relize he was at the place he needed to be.

He looked up at the sign, it made him smile for some reason.

"Bent and Dent

&

Torn and Ripped.

What you don't want

We'll take in." 

Smiling, he went to pull open the door, but it would budge. Then, he tried to push, but it still wouldn't open.

"Okay then..." He said, annoyed. The blarring neon sign clearly said open, he was about to walk away when a blue peice of paper taped benith the handel cought his eye.

"Heed my warning  
Learn my call  
Leave your cats  
in the hall.  
Be you friend  
Leave you foe  
I need the time  
what do you hold?"

Charlie gave a confused look, not understanding at all. He desided to just pound on the door until someone awnsered it.

He was just about to give up when a beautiful woman with a huge silver key come into his view. She had flowing blond hair and bright blue eyes that fit her cheerful round face.

"Couldn't figure out the riddle, could ya?" She asked, smirking at Charlie with her plump lips. 

"Was I...suppose to?" Charlie asked, becoming suddenly self conscience about it apperance.

The woman smiled and then sighed. "You'll have to wear the blindfold, I'm 'fraid." She placed it on Charlie, which he could feel the blush run to his cheeks.

The blindfold darken the whole room so he couldn't see anything, but the noises he heard.

"You can't see until you awnser the riddle, but don't worry, feel free to look around." He heard her heels click away.

"Hey, wait!" But no reply came to him. He was afraid to move, as the blindfold had made everything pitch black.

He started to walk, promptly bumping against things.

Letting out a cry of pain, he hobbled about, knocking things over. He steaded himself, gripping what felt like a railing.

"I better figure out that riddle." He told himself, and started thinking.

"Leave your cats in the hall...beware…"Oh, duh!" Charlie cried, feeling stupid. "It must mean beware of dogs!"

Something happened so suddenly, Charlie nearly fell over. The blindfold lightened up as soon as he said dog, being able to see shapes now, but was suddenly dizzy.

"Now what?" He asked, things just kept getting weirder. He heard music being played on the radio upstairs somewhere was the kind that Masie would have never let him play.

But…There was something about the music It was magical, unnatural. The words hardly reached his brain. He felt his legs moving without him wanting them too.

He felt a sharp pain two feet above his ankle. He had ran into a step. His feet went up the stairs, legs like jell-o, without a second though.

He reached the second floor when the music stopped, as did the voice. Charlie groaned, as though something really nice had been canceled. His brain slowly started to take control when the voice started to sing again, only now he could here the words.

"Pain! With out looove, pain, can't get enough! Paaain, I like it rough…" Charlie saw only one door in the hall; it was painted black, most likely after Alice left. He was already gripping the doorknob when the voice stopped again, or left that part of the room.

"What am I doing?" He asked himself, shaking his head. Charlie looked down the hall. On the far wall was a simple clock with out numbers. It was so curious, that he couldn't help but look at it.

"Wow, it's almost noon already!" He cried in shock. What had he been doing? Surely, the clock must be wrong. He tried to rip off his blindfold but it wouldn't come off.

Charlie heard the door open; he turned to see the figure there.

"It's dogwatch." The voice, a girl's one, said in a quiet bitter sounding voice. 

"Dogwatch?" Charlie asked, as soon as he said that his head almost burst open. Charlie closed his eyes and groaned. When he opened them, he found he could see and that the blindfold had disappeared from his head.

He got up, unsure, and checked the clock again. It was already six o'clock!!

"No way! Hey, hey! Shop lady!

Charlie sprinted down the hall, which was green in couture to the black door. He plowed down the steep steps that were longer than he remembered and into the amazing shop. 

Every shelf had a box of a different size and shape. Some where long and tall, some short and narrow, and Charlie was pretty sure that one was star shaped, but every one of them were wrapped in shinny green paper.

It was as though they were designed to leave you in puzzlement. The whole shop had been turned from a glorying white place of joy and peace to a slightly frustrating mystery.

He was panting when he reached the end of the stairs, but was silenced when he heard the angry voice of Manfred Bloor.

"It's the wrong box!" He yelled. His voice was one that caused even an innocent person to make sure that they were just that.

Manfred was once a student, now he was a so called teacher. He basically got the license to boss the Endowed children around. His black stringy hair was up in a tight ponytail in the back of his head.

"The box picked you." The beautiful shop keeper said, batting her long eyelashes and giving him a pout.

"I demand the music box!" Manfred yelled at the woman, who acted like she didn't hear him and continued to sort his box. Charlie gasped; did the Bloor's have Dr. Tolly's music box?

Another voice joined the fray. A girl who looked to Charlie a bit older than him, walked out of what looked like a backroom. She had golden wavy hair that was coated in natural hair oils, high cheek bones, and a well defined yet round face. She walked forward with a strange rolling gait.

"Stop that yelling!" She sang, irritably. That was the voice Charlie had heard earlier.

Manfred's jaw snapped shit, looking nonplussed; he turned and left the shop.

The girl, who was wearing what looked like a mutant pillowcase, went back to the storage room. Only then did Charlie feel safe to enter the room all the way.

"Excuse me?" Charlie whispered, he tried to talk louder but found that he couldn't.

"I need a box for-." He started but was cut off by the shop keeper.

"For Charlie Bone. A box for Charlie Bone." She turned and clipped over to a shelf behind the small table that Charlie remembered he bumped into and pulled out a large square box.  
"A-and one for Grandma- I mean, Masie Jones." He stammered. How'd she know his name? He didn't recall giving it to her.

She pulled out a small square box beneath the counter.

"Will that be all?" She asked, placing the two boxes on the counter with a smile.

"No, but, umm Miss…?" Charlie began.

"Mrs.Lintvedt, deary." She helped, smiling sweetly at him.

"Yes, um, what did Manfred get in his box?" He hoped she would answer him; it was a long shot though.

"Whatever his hearts desires were at the time." She started to walk to the backroom.

"Now run along, we're closing."

"Oh! Don't I have to pay you?" Charlie asked, feeling in his pockets. He was sure he had some money.

"Don't be silly, you'll pay yourself, now, run along." Mrs. Lintvedt giggled, giving Charlie a shooing motion.

Charlie nodded and collected the boxes. He nodded to her a good-bye and opened the door with is body. When he picked up the boxes, they seemed incredibly light, but when he pasted though the doors, they gained all the weight.

"Oh, great." Charlie groaned, making his way down the darkening street. "What a weird shop."


	3. Chapter 3

Patron's Discovery

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Disclaimer: I duno-t own stuff, cause I'm in skool.

Author's note: Damn right I do, I figured you had enough hamsters powering your brain to realize others might have been confused as well. BASK IN MY GOD LIKE POWERS! Hahaha…but seriously- This one is dedicated to you, O' What's your face –wink- -wink-

Charlie heaved the boxes, for they seemed to gain weight with each step he took. Sweat ripped screamingly from his pours, as he reached his street.

His legs suddenly gave out five feet from the Brown's house, right beneath the flickering street light…flickering? No, it grew brighter, humming with power and then suddenly-

BASH

The light exploded in thousands of tiny glass shards down upon Charlie's head.

"Charlie Bone!" Came the voice of his uncle, as he prowled quickly down the street. Just then, he remembered about his friend and missing dog. Of course, this wasn't the time for such a mystery.

"Where have you been? You're aunt and I have been worried sick. Running off-" Uncle Patron stopped yelling long enough to see that Charlie was down.

"What's wrong?" He asked, urgently.

"Nothing, could you carry a box, and I'll tell you everything." So, Uncle Patron picked up the box that belonged to Maisy with a grunt.

"My, what is in here?" He wondered, as Charlie began to dip into the story of his morning and his afternoon.

The two walked; as Charlie talked through the night to their front poach. His uncle's long legs provided perfect support for the unnaturally heavy box. He pulled the door open, nodding to Charlie that he was listening.

"I brought the ruffian home, Masie!" He called, as he entered the room, placing the box on the floor.

"Yes, and he better have a very good reason for giving me a few more gray hairs." His favored grandma trotted up to the group of box carries, her hair looked frizzled and her face a bit upset looking.

"This young man has quiet a story to tell." Uncle Patron said, standing up with an exaggerated stress noise.

"Oh, really?" She said, sounding in disbelief. "It that my coffee?"" She asked, picking up the box as though it was a feather. "Thank you Charlie dear, you're cold dinner is on the table if your hungry."

"Grandma ma-"Patron took Charlie's shoulder as he went after his Grandma to go explain.

"I'll tell her." He said, slowly,"I have something I need to show you." With that, Uncle Patron stalked off and up the stairs, leaving the bewildered Charlie to go after him.

Half way up the stairs, Charlie remembered his box, he ran back down to go get it. Why was his box so light? Maybe they were photographs? His thoughts mounted as he remounted the stairs and walked into his Uncle's room.

His Uncle's room was in a state that was surprisingly cleaner than usual. It was as though he was trying to get organized but gave up half way. Charlie could see half the bed and most of the floor, and there were fewer books upon the floor.

"What do you have to show me, Uncle?" Charlie asked, sitting carefully on the bed.

"Oh…yes, um, a letter came for you, I swear, I didn't mean to read it, but it had no…" He muttered, pushing books to and fro, looking for the open letter,"Address on the front…so…"

Charlie noticed a fly fly a crossed the room back and forth, as though it was waiting too.

"Here it is!" He gasped, finally pulling it out. The letter was on small and delicate yellow looking paper. Charlie could see though the paper that the writer used red ink.

Charlie took the paper from his Uncle, the fine paper felt old and a bit fur to the touch. His eyes scanned the spidery writing.

Charlie,

With all urgency, I must tell you that I am neither dead nor safe, but in a great hurry to tell you these things so you can keep my Billy safe. With this, I leave you my hopes and pleas that you watch him very carefully these following weeks as I return, for things are afoot.

Sign, You know Who.

"Who?" Charlie tried to remember, and then, slowly, it came back to him. "But, that's impossible! He fell off a cliff!"

"Stranger things have happened, Charlie." Uncle Patron said solemnly, taking out a box cuter from a lower shelf. "Don't cut yourself." He said, in a monotone-ic voice, tossing the box cutter.

"I'm going to open it in my room, who knows what'll jump out."

"Good thinking, yes…yes." Uncle Patron went back to shuffling though his things.

Charlie bowed out of the room as quietly as he could and opened the door to the explosion that was his room. He was packing for the next week of school, of course, and the Bloor's castle was extra nippy around this time. Though the snow had mostly melted, Bloor's had a pesky way of taken in coldness and keeping it. He moved things to there proper place the best he could. Maise would make a big deal out of it in the morning, but for now, he had other matters to attend to.

He sat on his book covered bed, chucking his Algebra book at his book bag, where it landed pitifully next to his garbage can. He gave a small laugh and flipped open the even smaller knife. He stabbed into it, cutting it open.

Tissue paper filled most of the box, Charlie was very disappointed, he was expecting the music box, not (As he rummaged though the box)

a thin bag in paper. He opened the thin bag slowly, taking out a laminated photograph.

As soon his eyes hit the picture, Charlie entered.

_The room was large, like a hall. In fact, there was a party going on, with finger foods and frizzy pops on the tables. Charlie found himself standing next to three very pretty girls. They had bleached blond hair, large breast and extra short short skirts. They could have been triplets with they weren't bad mouthing each other's parents. He looked around the room; it was clearly a birthday party, and a big one at that. _

"_At least she could have washed her hair." One of the girls said, popping her gum._

"_I bet you if you ask her, she'll say she did." The other one popped._

"_Well, let's find out." The third replied, standing up, her loose gem studded belt jingled against her waist._

_Charlie walked past them, no, floated, he just noticed that he had no body, but could fully move around, was this a new power?_

"_They're talking about me." Said a soft girl's voice. Well, maybe not soft, just quiet. The girl in question was wearing a pretty blue sweater and a striped scarf and was sitting at the bar next to a larger girl._

_The larger girl hushed her and someone shouted "Pictures!" _

_Yes, this is what Charlie saw before he was sucked in. A happy family gathered together. This was just five seconds of it, once the picture was taken, they all dispersed. _

_And Charlie should have too, but he found that either he couldn't not didn't want to. This picture wasn't finished with him yet. _

_He slid into a chair in the far corner as they ate cake and sang to the birthday girl._

_Charlie was curious; it was like being a ghost. There was no need to eat, because he wasn't hungry, or sleepy, because he wasn't tired._

_People were leaving, it was getting dark and snow slowly started to fall. He watched the birthday girl walk out side, flanked by the larger girl. Charlie felt like he was being pulled towards them. He found himself following them out the door. _

_Three other people followed Charlie and the two girls. Three very pretty people._

_Charlie had a good look at the girl in blue's face and he really wished he didn't. The winter sky of bright red and dark blue was becoming covered with heavy clouds as the girl was becoming a beast._

"_I always knew you were a freak!" Screamed the tallest of the pretty blond girls, as she threw a rock at the beast's head with force that came from fear._

"_No! Stop!" The large girl cried, her leash have on the beast-girl. The werewolf like creature ripped itself from the leather leash and pounced on the rock throwing her. Charlie wanted to scream so hard and so badly it felt like his innards were going to burst._

_Her pretty face was soon ripped to shreds, and the white snow that matched her outfit so lovely was blood-red, which clashed with her lipstick._

_The two girls screamed, crying hard, as their cousin was feasted upon._

_Charlie couldn't bear the sight, but he wouldn't have to…_

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Charlie jerked awake, lifting up his hand to turn off alarm clock. Panic filled him, how long had he stayed there? How could a family that looked so happy have such horrible things happen to them?

And why did it take so long for him to wake up? He looked around his wand, which was in the shape of the moth. It was no where in site. He looked at the clock, only ten minutes until the Blue bus came. Panicking, he quickly packed his bags and attempted to comb his hair. He threw his brush on his unmade bed and raced out of his room.

Patron's door was open, and the moth rested over the doorway. The fly bounced back and forth, as though trapped in the room. Charlie noted how weird it was, but he was too much of a hurry to really register.

Charlie trampled down the stairs, nearly tripping and falling.

"Well, he's not dead." Patron said in a cheerful voice, as he was eating toast.

"Well, he will be if he doesn't eat. Poor thing, the teenage years are so difficult." Maise smiled at Charlie, scoping eggs of the scrabbled and bacon bit verity into a wheat-y pita. "There, love." She passed of his breakfast like a baton in a marathon, and they all exchanged their goodbyes as Charlie plowed out the door.

Long Live the King

The buses stopped in front of the ancient school building as floods of blues, greens, and purples poured into the courtyard.


End file.
